Letting Go
by FiftyLegends
Summary: It's simple, just let go. To you it doesn't seem like it's fair, to her... She has learned to coupe with things that have changed. ONE SHOT. Either Brittana or Quinntana, depending on who you prefer. I think it works with either paring.


She lies in bed, waiting for your return.

Days, weeks, months, pass. Every moment that you are gone, puts her through an emotional fit.

Her blonde hair sprawled out upon her pillow. She turns to face your side of the bed; she runs her right hand over the spot that you slept. You look at her hand, she still has her ring on.

She takes a deep breath. Tears well in her eyes, her breathing uneven. She doesn't the tears fall, almost as if she is used to this feeling, like she needs to be strong.

Days, weeks, months. You have felt this guilt inside of you, it wasn't your fault. You never saw it coming, it just happened. You continue to watch her, her uneven breathing has subsided.

She gets out of bed and gets in the shower. You look at her, 'she looks beautiful.' you think. Ever since you left, she has learned to deal with the emotional pain.

You watch her, every day in the morning, when you two would usually be cuddling in bed, just talking about anything you could imagine. This day is different; you notice her daily routine has changed. She skips her morning workout, her usual breakfast, even her singing, this is strange to you.

Then realization hits you, every few weeks she does this. The girl calls her a few of her close friends, saying that she's canceling her plans for the next few hours. You feel like your heart shatters a little bit more, knowing that she's planning to spend time alone.

You follow her out to her car, almost as if you were going somewhere together. She drives to a flower shop, and buys a bouquet. A few white orchids, blue violets, red and white roses, and a single purple daisy. Each with a different meaning. Orchid for endless love, Violets for faithfulness, Roses for a sign of true love, and the Daisy.. Your favorite a color, and flower.

You watch her through the big glass window; the shop clerk looks at her funny, knowing the arrangement of the flowers did not go together. The blonde doesn't care at all; she shrugs and pays for them anyway. You smile to yourself, a small reminder to yourself that she hasn't changed one bit.

She walks back to her car and starts her journey to her final destination. The drive didn't seem long, maybe a half hour. She parks her car at the top of the hill and hops out, grabbing a blanket on the way. You know exactly where she is going next.

You follow her towards the spot she plans to stay hours in. Your heart speeds up as the girl kneels down.

"Hi Santana." The girl says while placing the flowers above your tombstone. You make your final steps, behind the solid black stone. You wish you could congratulate her for being this strong for so long. You wish you were there with her, wiping away her tears, if she shed any. The girl spreads the blanket down in front of you and sits.

Your death was an accident, an accident that she survived. You remember every detail clearly. The drive back from a late Cheerios practice. The driver was drunk, and smashed into your car, it flipped. Your body so badly damaged broken ribs, collapsed lung, and a broken neck. She wanted to see you so bad after she woke up from her slumber. Puck and Sam were in the room when she heard the news, she tried to get up and run away, but the boys held her back. Tears fell rushed down her cheek, she was screaming, not wanting to face the truth about you. She spent weeks blaming it on herself; she thought that she was the reason why it happened. You wish you could tell her that it wasn't, it was the drunken bastard who hit you.

"I miss you San." She says to no one particular. You walk towards her, quietly. Almost as if you didn't want to disturb her peace.

You sit in front of her, and look into her eyes. Her eyes remained on the carved letters on the stone. 'Santana Maria Lopez. 1995-2012. A loving daughter, friend, and girlfriend.' It read.

You move to place your hand on her cheek, but your hand goes straight through. Like she didn't feel a thing, she doesn't move an inch. Tears start coming, falling off your face, you didn't know you were crying until now.

Feeling like you have a lump in your throat, you take a breath. In a shaky breath you say "I miss you too."

You stand up; frustrated, you want her to hear you. You keep repeating it, louder and louder, as if you thought that yelling it would get her attention. You fall to your knees, giving up. You look at her; tears are making their way out of her eyes. Yet, she has a smile on her face. Letting you know that she understands that you are in a better place.

"I miss you."


End file.
